


Camp Timberwolf

by IndecisiveAndUncreative



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Camp Counselor AU, Fluff, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Protective!Derek, Wolf!Derek, alpha!Derek, minor head injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-13 02:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21486778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndecisiveAndUncreative/pseuds/IndecisiveAndUncreative
Summary: Stiles loved being a counselor at Camp Timberwolf. He loved the kids and the other counselors.....and Derek.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 8
Kudos: 374





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, unbeta'd and all mistakes are mine.

Stiles loved being a camp counselor. Granted, he usually liked staying in and playing video games or digging himself into a Google hole but, after his first year at the Camp Timberwolf, he was hooked. The kids were great, the other staff was great, and he could even admit that he liked the atmosphere a lot more than he thought he would.

Stiles _loved_ being a camp counselor.

He loved being a camp counselor even more when he got to work closely with Derek. Derek’s family owned the camp and he was there every year.

Now, don’t get Stiles wrong, he loved the kids, he really did. They matched his enthusiasm and energy on a level that he didn’t normally find. Derek, however, was a _very_ close tie for being his main reason for coming back summer after summer.

Stiles lived for every day that he got the opportunity – the _privilege_ – of seeing Derek at the rock walls. Derek helped the kids up and down three different walls, each designed at a different level: beginner, intermediate, expert. Stiles, being a cabin leader, moved around the camp during the days checking on his campers but wasn’t even a little embarrassed to admit that he spent the majority of the rest of his time bugging Derek. (And if Stiles liked to stare at Derek’s ass in the climbing harness, well…no one else needed to know that part.)

Derek, for his own part, didn’t grumble too much when Stiles continuously yapped in his ear but, with all the kids around, it’s not like he could tell Stiles to piss off. That being said, with each passing year, Stiles even thought they were developing a tentative friendship. He caught Derek looking at him a few times with something in his eyes that Stiles couldn’t quite discern and, so far, he’d acquired a tally of three Derek Smiles (patent pending) that he’d seen directed at him.

Derek worked the climbing walls for the majority of the camp’s duration but there were a few days every summer when he was a chaperone for hikes in the woods surrounding the camp. Since the Hale siblings knew the area best, all three were present during the outings.

This particular hike, the first one of that season, had started out bright and sunny but, on the way back, it started to rain. Thankfully, they weren’t very far from camp. As all the chaperones were herding the kids forward – Laura at the front; Cora, Isaac, and Boyd on the left; Derek, Erica, and Scott on the right – Stiles was at the back of the group. When the edge of the woods came into view for the children at the front, they cheered and started running, creating a stampede of little elephants with Laura leading the charge

Stiles’ laugh rang through the trees as he watched them, making Derek look back at him and he got smile number four. He caught his eye and tentatively smiled back and Derek’s gaze snapped forward. Stiles sighed and didn’t chase after them. He told himself that it was in case one of the kids straggled or got hurt in the fray.

The last person broke through the tree line and out of sight when a strange noise drew Stiles’ attention to the trees on his right. He paused, listening hard and heard it again. It was a small whining noise that, admittedly, could’ve very well been an animal but Stiles couldn’t take that chance. He stepped into the denser trees on the edge of the trail, after the noise.

“Hello?” he called.

All he heard was pattering rain on leaves.

“Is there someone out there?”

The noise came again.

He followed it until he stole a glance behind him and realized he was a lot farther into the trees than he had thought. Having found nothing, Stiles turned to retrace his steps out to the main trail when rustling in a nearby thatch of underbrush lured him yet farther in.

He knew a child couldn’t be hiding in there so he crept slowly. He didn’t know what he was expecting but the fox that jumped out scared the hell out of him. He backpedaled. The mud and leaves under his feet didn’t create any traction and, when his heel caught on a fallen tree branch, his last thought while falling was _this is gonna hurt_.

His head cracked off something hard and his world went dark.

\-----

Something cold and wet was nudging at Stiles’ forehead. He raised a hand to swat at it but found that his hand moved a lot slower than he anticipated. It flopped to the ground, palm up, next to his head. The same cold and wet _something_ nudged his hand and then his forehead again.

There was a sharp whine.

Even through his fuzzy brain, Stiles could tell that it was a different whine from the one that had brought him into the trees.

There was way too much effort involved in cracking his eyes open and Stiles nearly screamed once he did. It took several seconds for his brain to rationalize that the thing looming over him was not a shadow monster but rather a large black wolf. _What the hell?_ It leaned down, nose twitching, and Stiles jerked hard. His head turned quickly to the side and he immediately regretted it, nausea washing over him and black creeping into his vision.

He swore under his breath.

The wolf’s nose touched his cheek and whined again.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, voice cracking. Slowly, he dragged his hand up and hoped he wasn’t about to get it bitten off as it landed on the wolf, fingers curling in the rough fur. He swallowed in hopes of keeping the rising bile down as the darkness closed in. “I’m just gonna…pass out now.”

Right before he went under, Stiles could’ve swore the wolf’s eyes glowed red.

_What. The. Hell._

\------

“Mr. Stiles!”

“Mr. Stiles, where are you?”

The group of voices drew him far enough out of the fog of his brain to understand that he needed to call out or do something to get their attention; however, when he tried to yell, it came out quieter than he intended and he was too far into the trees for them to hear him over the still-falling rain.

Among the calling voices, one stood out, louder and closer than the rest.

“Stiles!”

“Laura!” Yelling made his head hurt more but he cleared his throat and tried again. “Laura!”

Belatedly, Stiles realized that he was warm, like, really warm and he was being pressed into the ground by the warm weight covering him from shoulder to ankle. Cracking his eyes open, Stiles came nose to nose with the black wolf.

“You’re still here,” Stiles whispered, voice laced with confusion and awe in equal measure. Carefully, he brought his hands up and rested them on his living space heater – one at its neck and one tracing the outline of a furry ear.

The ear flicked under his ministrations and the wolf rose to its feet. Stiles groaned at the sudden cold.

Leaning down, the wolf pressed its nose into Stiles’ jaw.

“Stiles!” Laura’s voice came again, much closer this time, and the wolf turned tail before darting away.

Stiles sat up quickly, ready to yell after it. The resulting head rush forced him over onto his knees and he finally threw up.

“Stilinski!” He heard her practically crash through the fallen branch that had taken him out.

“Here,” he croaked, uselessly.

Laura’s legs came into view when she crouched next to him.

“Damn, kid.” She put careful fingers against the back of his head.

He grimaced, anticipating pain that didn’t come. Instead, a weird tingling sensation, one that he blamed on the concussion he absolutely had, followed her fingertips.

“We need to get you to Deaton,” she said. “Can you walk?”

“I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “I puked just sitting up so even if I can stand, walking might still be a problem.”

“I can carry you.” Derek’s voice cut in and Stiles definitely didn’t jump in shock. Definitely not.

Stiles scoffed and looked up at him, careful not to move too quickly. He was surprised to see how serious Derek looked.

“Dude, seriously?”

“_Dude_,” Derek imitated him, making Stiles snort, “your head is bleeding.”

They stared at each other for a beat longer. Stiles sighed.

“If I get a choice, I’d prefer a piggy back ride over bridal style.”

Derek gave a stern nod and knelt next to his sister.

Slowly, they maneuvered Stiles so that he was leaning heavily against Derek’s back with his arms around his shoulders. Derek’s hands gripped the back of his thighs, just above his knees.

“Take a deep breath and try not to throw up on me,” Derek said.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Stiles reply came out grumbled against Derek’s neck. He thought he felt Derek shiver.

As he inhaled, he made a mental note that Derek smelled _really_ good but, weirdly, also a bit like wet dog.

_Did Derek have a dog?_

Derek stood up under him when he exhaled.

The trip back to camp was slow going since they had to pause every time Stiles’ head started swimming a little too much. He really didn’t want to throw up on the guy he’d been harboring a huge crush on.

As they walked, he started telling them the story that landed them there. When he got to the part about the wolf, Laura’s gaze snapped to Derek who was resolutely not meeting her eyes.

Stiles judged the look at concern and he rushed to reassure them.

“I don’t’ think it’s dangerous,” he said. “I mean, yeah, it’s a wolf but I was down for the count and it didn’t hurt me. I think it even woke me up and kept me warm ‘til you guys got to me. Hell, I’m not completely convinced it wasn’t just a delusion. I mean, I thought its eyes glowed and that’s impossible. And it if was real, I don’t think it would come to camp or hurt the kids. It hasn’t done anything yet and who knows how long it’s been out there.” Stiles brain skidded to catch up with where his rambling was taking him. “Wait, that sounds so much worse than I meant it. I just mean that-”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted, “breathe.”

He came back to himself to find that they were standing outside Timberwolf’s medical building – home of Dr. Deaton, the camp’s doctor. Yes, he was an actual doctor and had his own practice. He took time off from that every year so that he could volunteer his time at Timberwolf.

Derek refused to put him on his feet outside, preferring to walk in and deposit him directly on Deaton’s exam table instead. He also refused to leave Stiles side during all of Deaton’s tests and questions and examinations of the wound on the back of his head.

For 25 minutes, Derek lingered at the corner of his eye. It was only after Deaton let him go, but not without stern instructions to take it easy for a while, that Derek seemed to ease up. Stiles didn’t realize how tense Derek had been until he literally saw the tension leave his shoulders.

“Were you that worried about me?” Stiles asked as they made for the door.

“You were bleeding pretty bad,” Derek reasoned, staring at the floor. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were pink.

“Aww, Sourwolf does care!” he teased.

Derek’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “What did you call me?”

“Sourwolf?” Stiles shrugged with a laugh. “Ya’know, because of your generally grumpy personality,” he waved a hand at him, “and you work at Timberwolf.”

Derek frowned.

“See?” Stiles pointed. “Your frown could put Grumpy Cat to shame.” Without thinking, Stiles pinched one of Derek’s cheeks. They both froze.

Stiles’ eyes grew wide and he snatched his hand away. He cleared his throat.

“Um, thank you. For, you know, carrying me and,” he gestured back the way they came, “staying with me. You didn’t have to do that but I, uh, I appreciate it.” He risked a glance at Derek. The pink on his cheeks seemed a bit darker.

“You’re welcome, Stiles.” The shy smile that grew on Derek’s face had Stiles’ heart tripping over itself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He watched, with his breath caught in his chest, Derek walk slowly out to the hiking path and disappear into the shadows.  
Quiet as possible, Stiles slipped his shoes on and ran out after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished writing this at about 1:30am so there's that. Unbeta'd, all mistakes mine.

His phone was vibrating. Without even looking at it, he knew it was Deaton. Per Doc’s orders, after lights out, Stiles had to be woken up every couple of hours to make sure he was okay. He brought the phone to his ear only long enough to grumble into the receiver and answer one of Deaton’s questions before saying goodnight, again, and hanging up.

He stared up at the ceiling for a little bit, listening to the campers he shared the cabin with and the crickets outside.

Stiles rolled out of bed and padded over to the closest window. The grass seemed to glow under the moonlight. Idly, he noted that the full moon was tomorrow night. Per camp tradition, the night of the full moon was spent around a big bonfire and then everyone sleeps out under the stars.

Distinctly, Stiles remembered last year’s full moon. He kept catching Derek’s gaze throughout the night until, much to his endless surprise, Derek came to sit next to him. They talked all night, slowly edging closer to each other, and neither moved away when they realized their thighs were, more or less, pressed together.

As the fire died, Stiles swallowed his request for them to sleep near each other. He couldn’t think of a way of wording it that didn’t sound awkward or super sexual so he let it go. To this day, he regretted not just throwing caution to the wind and asking.

Movement outside brought him back to present day. He watched, with his breath caught in his chest, Derek walk slowly out to the hiking path and disappear into the shadows.

Quiet as possible, Stiles slipped his shoes on and ran out after him.

_Was Derek sleepwalking? Was this normal for him? What if he got hurt?_

He pushed himself faster to the tree line. Once he was surrounded by the shadows, he regretted not thinking to grab a flashlight and was immensely thankful for the almost-full moon. He tried to be as quiet as possible when he walked, wanting to listen for a sign of where Derek went.

“Derek,” Stiles called.

Only the wind answered him so he kept walking.

For several minutes, he moved deeper along the trail, calling sporadically for Derek until he found himself in a small clearing that the Camp frequented on hikes. It had a staggered circle of tree stumps around a little fire pit. The fire pit hadn’t been used in a while since the one in the main camp was bigger.

Stiles looked around with still no sign of Derek.

“Where the hell did he go?” he whispered.

The sudden growl from behind him turned his blood to ice. There was no mistaking it meant _predator _and it had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Slowly, holding his breath, he turned. No sudden movements, no threatening noises.

During one of his Google rabbit holes, Stiles found videos of mountain lions in captivity and remembered thinking that they looked cute and cuddly. They even purred like overgrown housecats! When he saw the one stalking toward him through the trees, he took it all back. It stepped forward and he stepped back. He knew better than to turn and run but his brain wasn’t giving him any answers.

Before Stiles could do anything to get himself eaten, something crashed through the trees, jumping clear over his head, and landing directly in front of the cougar. The thing crouched down and snarled. The cougar’s back arched in response, spit out a hiss, and swiped a clawed paw at its new opponent, who jerked when the claws dug into it. A deafening roar from the crouched figure sent the animal darting into the trees and made Stiles cover his ears with his hands.

In the low light, the figure looked vaguely human but from the noise it gave, he couldn’t be sure and now, with only the two of them in the ring of trees, Stiles was starting to worry that this thing was a bigger threat.

His heart was making a valiant effort to beat out of his chest and climb out of his throat at the same time.

“Oh my God, I’m gonna die.” What was supposed to be an inner thought came out as a squeak and his knees gave out.

The figure’s head snapped around and Stiles thought his heart may have stopped all together.

“Derek?” he breathed.

Derek’s face shifted right before his eyes. The pointed ears rounded out, the heavy brow ridge receded, and his eyebrows came back from wherever they had disappeared to. Fangs gave way to adorable bunny teeth and glowing red eyes melted to the indescribable hazel-esque color that Stiles was familiar with.

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice was soft, as if he was trying to convince a frightened animal that he wasn’t a threat. Stiles choked on a hysterical giggle.

“Derek.” His eyes flicked to Derek’s shirt, seeing the torn fabric with minor red stains but no actual wounds on his chest.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked.

“Am I okay?” Stiles’ voice came out higher than he would admit but he figured, with what he had just seen, no one would blame him for it. “What the hell was that?”

Derek grimaced. Even in the low light, Stiles could see him grappling for an excuse – any excuse – for what just happened.

“Don’t you dare try to lie to me,” Stiles nearly yelled. “I saw that, all of that, with my own eyes.”

After several more seconds of Derek saying nothing as he crouched in the dirt, Stiles was fairly confident that he wasn’t going to get a verbal response. He pushed forward. He took Derek’s face in his hands and made him meet his gaze.

Derek almost looked scared. Stiles swallowed and consciously told himself to calm the hell down. No matter what he just saw, he knew Derek wasn’t going to hurt him.

“Okay, don’t tell me. Show me?” He had meant that last bit to sound like a confident statement but it came out as a quiet, tentative question.

Derek’s eyebrow cocked in an “Are you sure?” kind of way.

“Please?”

Nodding slowly, Derek seemed to steel himself. He took a deep breath and let it out but his eyes never wavered from Stiles’ as hazel bled to bright red. Even still, they stayed locked as his jaw dropped just enough to make room for growing fangs.

Stiles couldn’t keep himself from pressing a thumb against Derek’s sharp canine.

Carefully, Derek took Stiles’ wrists and moved his hands away from his face. As Stiles watched the rest of Derek’s face change again, he couldn’t decide if it was weirder to see the heavy brow ridge and eyebrows appear or disappear.

He lightly tugged his hands free and brought them up to run over Derek’s face once more.

“Does it hurt?” his whisper was barely audible, afraid to break the atmosphere surrounding whatever was happening between them.

Derek’s eyes closed when Stiles’ thumb traced down the bridge of his nose and shook his head in answer.

Silently, Stiles wondered if talking with fangs was an issue. He figured it was.

“So,” he started, causing Derek to open his eyes, “I can’t think of a good way to ask this question but, um, what are you?”

Feeling the structure of Derek’s face change made his fingers twitch.

“Werewolf,” Derek murmured.

Stiles sat back on his heels. “Werewolf,” he parroted. His brain was suddenly running wild but he fought to organize his thoughts before opening his mouth, finally settling on his first question. “How?”

“We were born like this.”

“_We_? You mean your sisters too?”

Derek nodded.

A laugh bubbled up out of Stiles’ throat and he didn’t even try to stop it. “Oh my God!” he got out between giggles. “A family of _werewolves_ runs Camp Timberwolf.”

Derek tried to swallow his own snort but Stiles heard it anyway.

Another thing came to mind and Stiles’ jaw dropped at the mere thought. _Black hair, red eyes…_

“The wolf from earlier…” he trailed off.

Derek looked sheepishly down at his hands. “When we were hiking, we smelled the mountain lion. After we got back, I shifted and went out to do a patrol and maybe scare it off but then I smelled your blood and I ran after it. You were unconscious when I found you.”

“But you woke me up and kept me warm.”

Derek nodded. “I couldn’t leave you, especially not with a cougar around. I figured that I’d just wait until you could get up by yourself but I was worried it would take too long. Then, I heard some kids at camp notice you were gone and a handful of counselors ran in after you.”

“What if one of them saw you?”

Their eyes met.

“It was a risk I was willing to take.” Derek’s face was stern and serious.

Stiles swallowed and nodded.

“How did you get back to me so fast” he asked in an attempt to break the tension he was suddenly feeling, “after you ran off?”

“I have stashes of clothes hidden around,” Derek explained. “It took a bit of maneuvering to change and get back to you without drawing attention but,” he shrugged instead of finishing his sentence.

“You risked your secret – your family’s secret – to protect me.” Stiles couldn’t keep the awe out of his voice.

“Of course.”

Stiles didn’t want to think about what that meant. Instead, he looked to satisfy his curiosity.

“Can I, um,” he paused, scratching the back of his neck, “can I see it again?” His eyes darted from the ground to Derek and back. “Your wolf?”

Derek made a noise somewhere between surprise and questioning and allowance. Finally, Stiles met his gaze. Derek must have found whatever he was looking for in Stiles’ face because he nodded, stood up, and made a “stay” motion to Stiles before he walked into the trees. Stiles watched him strip out of his shirt just as he slipped out of sight.

Leaves rustled and twigs snapped and Stiles sat, ears straining in hopes of hearing something – anything that could give him a hint of what was happening to Derek.

He had just started fidgeting when familiar red eyes emerged from the shadows.

“Der?”

The wolf padded over, paws light on the ground. Without the fog of the concussion, Stiles could see him clearly.

He was gorgeous.

He stood probably as tall as Stiles’ waist. A muscular but lean physique was covered by midnight black fur that Stiles distinctly remembered was softer than it looked.

When Derek was close enough to touch, Stiles buried his hands in his ruff and scratched up his neck and behind his ears. Derek rumbled happily and shivered under the attention.

He stretched, rubbed his cheek against Stiles’, and nosed at his neck, sniffing lightly.

Stiles reciprocated and buried his nose in Derek’s fur. They stayed that way for several minutes. Until Stiles shivered at a cold breeze.

“We should probably head back. Or, I should and leave you to finish whatever wolfy business that I interrupted.”

Derek grumbled and pushed forward instead of backing away. Stiles ended up laying on the ground with Derek plastered on his front, just like that morning.

“Or we could stay here for a bit.”

A rumble came from the within the wolf’s chest and, if possible, he seemed to press closer against Stiles.

With a breathy laugh, Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders and gripped his fur between his fingers.

“Forget Sourwolf,” he said around a yawn, “You’re Cuddlewolf, now.”

The grumble that Derek let out didn’t sound completely like a dissent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super duper happy with how this turned out. Leave a comment and tell me your thoughts??
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter two is in progress and should be up by the end of the week. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
